Dividing Lie(n)

Poetry for Ally Craskey

for 25 cents I can look at oblique angles of sand through upright binoculars — the U.S.-Mexico broder. eaten by my eyes, by my perception, you have become a part of me yet my pulse wobbles normal. 5th row from the front of the farthest dune, they stroll and laugh and turn, catwalking along the avenues forgetting pop-media condones their scene is a warzone. women dancing — waves of dance flicker up-down — men dancing. mainly it's silly how the border is like any other land-gig and you wouldn’t know it from mundane desert if it weren’t for binoculars cramping the sand’s style.

©Daniel Barry, 2022